


Spring in Venice

by n3ongold3n



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-15
Updated: 2012-05-15
Packaged: 2017-11-05 10:50:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n3ongold3n/pseuds/n3ongold3n
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spontaneous gift to the sweet DeeNuke as she loves them both so much.</p>
<p>Be warned, men will fall in love with each other here. </p>
<p>I hope it is a bit enjoyable. (:</p>
<p>Characters belong to Ubisoft. I own and earn nothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spring in Venice

Spring in Venice

Ezio shifted on the slightly worn-down velvet couch to settle in a more comfortable position. He had come to Leonardo's house for a small repair of his hidden blade – one of the leather straps had been severed during the last fight – a job that took Leonardo only fifteen minutes to complete. Ezio had not felt like leaving when both men were climbing the stairs from the dark workshop up to Leonardo's painting studio under the roof and decided to stay a little longer. He liked to relax in the light-flooded room that seemed to be so secluded from the hustle of the streets below but at the same time in the very heart of the city. The damped noise of horses clattering by and people arguing came streaming in through every window together with the crisp, bright light of April ,creating a peaceful atmosphere like being on a mountaintop.

The assassin slumped down even more until he was almost lying on the couch with the faded pattern of green intertwining flowers that had probably once belonged to a nobleman and was given to the painter as a gesture of appreciation. Ezio took in a deep breath, smelling the familiar scent of linseed oil, varnish and dry wood, completely understanding why Leonardo sometimes just slept up here when he had to work until late at night. The sofa was so comfortable – much better than the straw mattress downstairs.

Opposite of him, in the brightest corner of the room, Leonardo was busy adding a group of trees to a painting. He had brought in fresh oak, cedar and olive branches and placed them in an earthen vase next to his easel. Leonardo was quite absorbed in his work, constantly blending the oil paint on his palette to resemble the naturalistic example.

Usually, the two men would chat about their work and the latest scandals in Venice but Ezio did not want to disturb Leonardo's concentration today, so he just watched him working away. He had always admired his friend's versatility. The ease with which Leonardo could switch between painting a celestial Madonna and constructing ingenious murder weapons astounded him time and time again. Here, in the silvery light of early noon, the idea that this man with the silky blond hair and water blue eyes could even think of something that was able to take another man's life, seemed almost grotesque . This thought made Ezio smile quietly as he knew of the many layers of Leonardo's personality that would stay hidden to a common client.

Observing the artist work in full concentration seemed to add yet another layer to the others. He was...beautiful. Majestic somehow. The way his brows furrowed when his paint-speckled hands added a branch to another tree or how his hair fell over his shoulder when he moved, vibrantly reflecting the sunlight. But what was he thinking there? They were friends. The surreal atmosphere in the studio had to be responsible for making him drift to those thoughts.

He sat up from his slouched position and rested his elbows on his knees while nervously kneading his palms. Why am I looking at him so much anyway, Ezio wondered. Suddenly he felt uncomfortable and very aware of his thoughts. He could not look at Leonardo anymore. Clearing his throat, he got up.

"Leonardo, I have to leave now. Thank you for making such a swift repair and letting me rest. Until next time, friend."

He nodded good-bye at Leonardo before slipping out the door and taking the stairs down to the busy street.

Leonardo sighed when the door fell shut. Ezio always left so quickly. Or how much time had passed? He didn't know. Admittedly, he had been too focused on the painting, but it was not uncommon for Ezio to leave without a warning either. Leonardo just hoped that he had not been a bad host and bored his visitor by not giving him the due attention. Dismissing the gloomy thought, he let himself fall on the spot on the couch where Ezio had sat just seconds ago; the warmth that was still lingering in the cushions embraced him like a reassuring hug. Ezio would return, of course. He always did.

Ezio took a deep breath when he reached the nearest corner from Leonardo's house. He leaned against the warm limestone and squinted into the sun. That had never happened to him before. Surely, there were a lot of girls he felt attracted to but that was different. It had never made him uncomfortable – if anything – it made him feel excited and powerful. Normally, he was the one to make the girls blush with a clever, suggestive remark; so how come he now felt like one of those girls purely due to the presence of his friend? Ezio laughed nervously and pushed himself away from the wall. Slowly, he wandered to the nearest campo where he could sit on one of the benches and bring order into his racing thoughts.

When he arrived at the campiello San Antonio the short walk had relaxed him a little. He chose a bench near a fountain in which ferocious lions were wrestling a giant snake. The cobblestone was already heated from the sun although the air still held the freshness of beginning spring. Above him, bright green leaves were rustling against each other in the gentle breeze – a sound that Ezio did not know he missed during winter but realized it now with a thankful sigh.

Ah, life was good after all. Unconsciously he smiled, giving his face a happy, almost boyish expression. That encouraged a red-cheeked market-woman, who was just passing by to smile back at him spontaneously. Ezio startled. God, he was idiotically smiling at random people like a dreaming child without even realizing.

He jumped up and bowed curtly to keep up appearances. The woman hurriedly grasped her apron to courtesy back at Ezio, her basket full of eggs clutched in her right hand. Despite her politeness and shyly cast-down eyes Ezio could read from the dimples in her cheeks that she knew very well that the smile had not been for her. Ezio sat back down, watching her leave with a fresh spring in her step, almost dancing towards the wooden bridge over the channel.

His thoughts returned to his friend only this time he did not feel his chest tighten but he felt actually happy, simply grateful to have such an admirable friend. And what was not admirable about Leonardo, Ezio thought while watching a flock of chirping sparrows fighting loudly over a piece of bread in front of the fountain. Leonardo was intelligent to an extent that made Ezio feel like a stupid child sometimes. He was courageous; he was passionate; he was inventive and he was one of the most compassionate men Ezio had ever met. Compared to the priests he often had to deal with, Leonardo embodied all their preaching about love and mercy much more than any of the clerics themselves. And besides all of that he was also…beautiful. Yes. Even now, far away from the painter's studio and its unreal atmosphere, Ezio could simply not deny the fact that he seemed to find his friend attractive.

He snorted. Could that be? It certainly seemed so. Was it allowed? Certainly not. But he had stopped caring about social conventions a long time ago when he saw the people he loved most dangling from a rope like cattle in the slaughterhouse. So why should he care if his friend was a man and he felt attracted to him? He had not felt a deeper connection to someone since his brother's death so Leonardo maybe was better-suited to fill that aching space in his heart than any of the courtesans; they surely were fun but nothing serious ever.

He was not afraid. At least not afraid to try something new. Ezio decided after all his pondering that he should test his feelings and return to Leonardo. Maybe this was all just a fancy evoked by the breeze gently caressing his hair and the boisterous children chasing each other from one side of the campiello to the other. However, he needed a good reason for his second visit to the painter. As familiar as they were with each other, he certainly could not simply burst into the studio, announcing that he might have a crush on him and he just wanted to find out if that was really what he felt.

No. He needed to be subtle about this. In the end, he did not even know how Leonardo felt about those kind of things. He certainly was a very liberal soul but you never knew. Anyway, it would be vain to expect a brilliant man like him to take interest in a better murderer. Because that's what he was, right? Compared to Leonardo's occupation, his was easy – all it required were strong nerves, strength and a certain sense of life-denial. But on the other hand, of what use were such destructive musings? He was a man of action; gaining back his natural confidence, he suddenly had an idea.

Crossing the wooden bridge over the channel, he sauntered to the nearby market street. He knew Leonardo appreciated the small joys of life, so Ezio carefully picked out a selection of fine foods to bring back to the studio for both of them. When he left the crowded rows of market stalls into the direction of Leonardo's house, his arms were filled with crispy white bread that was still warm and smelled heavenly, a pot of spicy black olives and a piece of smoked ham. He had almost bought some violets from a little girl, too, but remembered just in time that this was not one of his usual romantic persuasions. He snorted a short laugh, wondering why he turned out to be the oddball of the Auditore family.

His good humor subsided a little when he eventually arrived at the wooden door with the heavy iron knocker he had used so many times without even thinking about it. He suddenly felt foolish with his arm full of presents. Where had all his confidence gone that he had just minutes ago strutting through the crowds of peasants and citizens as if he was the secret king of them all? Why did he never have any inhibition when it came to his feelings? It got him into the strangest situations. He sighed.

Ah well, it must be good for something, he thought resolutely and let the knocker fall down on the door three times while gingerly balancing the bread in the same hand. He straightened himself, forcing a nonchalant smile over his sheepish expression when he heard footsteps approaching the door.

Leonardo opened with a friendly smile that fell in surprise for the split of a second but came back even brighter than before when he recognized Ezio.

"Ciao Maestro." Ezio returned the bright smile "I thought it was a little impolite of me to leave you so early this morning. Let me correct my mistake by offering this humble meal." He lifted his folded arms to show his purchases.

"Oh, it can merely be humble if it is from you, my friend. I have never seen you buy anything cheap for as long as we know each other." Leonardo appraised the selection in Ezio's arms with the eyes of a connoisseur. "And if I'm not mistaken, you have only bought the best bread in Venice. Signor Guidetti is certainly a miracle worker when it comes to baked goods. Even if I had ten clients on my list, I would be a fool to turn down such an alluring offer." He opened the door to let Ezio enter.

"But please come in, how terribly impolite of me to let you wait on the doorstep like a huckster." Leonardo took the bread from Ezio to help him climb the steep staircase to the studio. Up there, the sun had wandered and now painted a bizarre pattern on the wall in blue and brownish colours as it shone through the many bottles filled with rich pigments and mysterious spirits.

As Ezio placed the food on the low table in front of the couch, Leonardo went into the adjacent storage chamber to fetch two wooden plates and a pair of goblets from delicate Venetian glass. He disappeared a second time and returned with a matching carafe of watered-down red wine.

"Ah, this will be a delicious meal. Thank you." He said while cutting off a slice of ham. "But Ezio, there was no need for it. I am the one who owes you an apology – I have neglected you as my guest. Next time, I will just leave the cedar tree naked, I promise." he chuckled.

"Please don't embarrass me with your kindness, Leonardo. I was the one who distracted you from your work."

Leonardo chewed pensively, "Oh, I am always glad when you do." Then he stopped as if he suddenly remembered something, looked up at Ezio and quickly added: "Yes, I like having company. A..any company. So, you are always welcome." He straightened the linen napkin on his lap and sipped on his wine.

Ezio did not know what to make of all this. So he just smiled with his mouth full of bread while his mind was reeling. There was nothing really unusual about Leonardo's remark; he often said things like that. Ezio had never given any thought to it. He was used to being complimented and on top of that they were close friends. However, today had changed his perspective and now he wondered if Leonardo's remarks could be said in more than just friendly cordiality. He also wondered how it could be that he had never noticed the undertone in their conversations before. But maybe he was just imagining things, he called himself to order.

They continued their meal, chatting about the latest scandal – a rich merchant had been poisoned and thrown into one of the channels. Neither Assassins not Templars seemed to be responsible for it and everyone was anxious to know more about it. After an hour, Leonardo apologized but he had to continue on the painting. He stressed, however, that Ezio could stay and chat for as long as he wished. Then he took off his cap and the ornate blue shirt, revealing a once-white linen blouse, strewn with oil-paint speckles.

Ezio felt somehow honoured by that familiar gesture as it was clearly something the artist would never do in the company of mere clients or acquaintances. He decided to stay; he still did not know how to make sense of his feelings. Again, he watched Leonardo from his comfortable position in the cushions. There was just no second way about it; Ezio clearly felt the urge to be close to his friend. Physically.

He imagined how it would feel if he just went over to Leonardo and touched his shoulder, maybe even his hands. Those dexterous, fine fingers that were able to create anything a mind could think of and more. Would he shy away? Would he scold him and chase him out of the house? That did not sound like Leonardo but you could not rule out that possibility.

Ugh, the way Leonardo's shirt fell open over his chest and revealed soft, golden hair did not help Ezio in his dilemma at all. Maybe he should say something. Test the waters.

"I am glad you let me stay here, Leonardo. …I like being with you."

Ezio saw a smile glint over Leonardo's face before the artist turned towards him to reply. Their eyes met and even across the distance between them, Ezio was hit by the intensity of the others look. It cut to his very core, causing something like a silent explosion under his heart. His knees felt weak but his mind clearer than ever. Suddenly he knew what all the minstrels were singing about when they courted young noblewomen. This hopeless yearning for just a touch, just a look of the loved one – he felt it in every fiber.

But instead of following his impulses, he chastely dropped his gaze like in shock and left Leonardo staring at him biting his lips and nervously playing with his fingers. This was too much for Ezio; he was not used to being flustered. Especially not when it came to matters of the heart. But then again, maybe this was the very first time his heart was actually involved. Why did it have to be one of his best friends? It made things so much more complicated.

Although a part of him just wanted to grab Leonardo to kiss him and get it over with, the more reasonable part was much more wary and anxious. He could just not stay here any longer. Leonardo probably already thought that he was acting strangely; he usually did not sit on the couch quietly without falling asleep.

Reluctantly, he hauled himself up from the cushions and walked quietly towards Leonardo, who stood crouched in front of his canvas, delicately sketching out a canopy of leaves, his tongue pressed between those full lips in full concentration.

"Leonardo… I have to go now."Ezio said almost whispering, putting a heavy hand on the light fabric of the artist's work shirt. He took in the warmth of the other which gave him an odd sense of excitement and when Leonardo straightened himself to return the good-bye, a strand of his hair brushed over Ezio's hand that made his stomach tingle.

"Good-bye, good-bye, dear Ezio!"Leonardo said happily, pulling him into one of his heartfelt hugs. This time, Ezio did not just sit through it but leaned into the embrace, pressing himself against his friend. When he felt Leonardo releasing him, he lifted his head from the others shoulder but still kept hold of his arms.

He should have taken his hands away by now.

One heartbeat. Two heartbeats.

He saw Leonardo's expression change from question to something like disbelief.

Four heartbeats. Five heartbeats.

His heart was racing. If it kept on going like this, it would soon jump out of his chest. His pulse must have been over a hundred beats per minute.

A minute. He could never hold on for this long. Pulling his hands away from Leonardo's arms, he gave the artist a reassuring shake to the shoulder that would have been completely normal if not for the slight tremble of the assassin's hand.

Before any of them could say even a word, Ezio turned and hurried down to the street where he leaned his forehead on the cool stone wall and caught his breath. What on earth had he just done?

He staggered home and threw himself on the bed. But sleep would not release him from his burning questions. That night he did not find sleep at all.

What would happen when they met next time?


End file.
